False Starts
by E. G. Szyslak
Summary: A collection of scenes from stories that will never be continued. Most entries are AU and Fang/Lightning.


**Apply Standard Disclaimers Here**

**.**

**False Starts  
****Entry 01: Illusions  
****By: E.G. Szyslak** [07/07-08/12]

**.**

Serah Farron needed little else in her life. She had loving parents, friends, and a bright future in Eden. Just today she found out that she had been accepted by the college of her choice, and in a few months, she would be leaving Bodhum and moving to Eden, the city in the skies, the capital of Cocoon.

It was a surreal feeling, one that filled her with both fear and excitement. Bodhum had been the only world she had known in her eighteen years, and to leave it was a venture she was to take alone. Maqui, her best friend, was a year younger, and it was a possibility he would forego further education to stay with NORA, the local neighborhood watch group led by Snow Villiers.

Snow Villiers, a young man who could be said was her opposite. He was a 21-year-old who hadn't looked back on school since finishing high school, despite education being free in Cocoon. He was a cheerful, charming young man, and it had done well for NORA that he had remained on the good side of Lieutenant Amodar, a Guardian Corps soldier whose voice carried considerable weight amongst the Bodhum Security Regiment.

Though not an official member of NORA, Serah had spent a majority of her teenage life tagging along with the group, often whisked away by Snow on an illegally modified velocycle. Second to her parents, she was really going to miss her adventures and misadventures with NORA. She doubted there would be anything like it in Eden.

Eden had PSICOM, not GC. Eden had buildings and skyscrapers, not beaches and coconut trees.

Serah was going to miss Bodhum, her family, her friends, the smell of the sea in the breeze and the feel of warm sand under her feet on sunny days.

"Daydreaming of getting out of here already?"

Serah, her stupor broken, found herself sitting at a counter of Lebreau's cafe. Behind her, around her, was the drone and shuffle of tourists, noise and movement any Bodhum native had long learned to tune out. Bodhum was always a spectacle during the fireworks festival, and this year was no different, if a little louder and more crowded than the previous year. As per tradition, it was a well kept secret which famous celebrities and performers would be featured at the fireworks event, but there was a rampant rumor that the list included Lightning, a 21-year-old violin prodigy.

"Serah," came the playful call, followed by a laugh. "I know I didn't put anything in your drink, but if you keep making that face, I'm going to start worrying."

Serah looked at Lebreau, who was standing behind the counter and smiling pleasantly at her, and offered her friend an apologetic smile in return.

"I'm sorry, Lebreau," she said, needing to speak much louder so she could be heard amid the drone of dozens of other voices.

Lebreau waved it off and leaned against the counter, given a rare and likely brief moment of respite. Elsewhere in the cafe, Yuj, Maqui and Gadot were seeing to the other customers, always eager to lend a helping hand to the establishment that funded NORA. Snow was absent, having run off earlier to respond to a bloodfang problem at the outskirts of town.

"You looked like you had a lot going on in your mind," Lebreau remarked, radiating the friendly, sincere disposition that made her an excellent bartender, one that made it so easy for to talk her, be it a friend or stranger. "Thinking about moving to Eden?" was the follow-up, accurate guess, as Lebreau had always been good at reading people.

"I am," Serah admitted quietly, lowering her gaze to the half-empty drink Lebreau had given her when she arrived at the cafe earlier. "Thinking that, this time next year, I'm going to be one of the tourists."

"You'll always be one of us, Serah," Lebreau assured her, reaching over to pat her hand. "Whenever you come visit, you'll feel right at home, you'll see. We'll make sure of it."

Slowly, Serah smiled, finding comfort in Lebreau's words. Though Lebreau was only older than her by a year, there were times, like now, where it seemed like her friend was well beyond her years. Lebreau doted on her like an older sister would, a thought that, after seven years, still hurt as much as the day she lost Claire, her sister. It was the one thing she was able to hide from everyone, Lebreau, Snow, her parents, no one knew how closely she still carried the pain of losing of Claire.

"Yuj is going to ask me to bring him designer clothes from Eden every time I come visit, isn't he?" she said, reminding herself that she should be looking to the future instead.

"Yeah," Lebreau sighed, "and you can bet he'll find all kinds of excuses to see you at Eden."

"I'd appreciate the company," Serah quipped, "and the shopping bills he'll promise to cover."

Lebreau laughed.

"See, you're learning how to deal with them. Now you just need to stop sneaking off with Snow at night. Your dad's never going to like him at this rate."

Serah rolled her eye in that typical, teenage fashion.

"Dad's being unfair. He and Mom used to do worse things when they were my age."

"I don't think I want to know why you know that," Lebreau said, causing them both to laugh.

Neither of them saw that a young man had taken the previously empty seat beside Serah, and it was only when he spoke that they noticed him.

"Bartender," he had said with a slight drawl and a hint of amusement. "How about a drink, yeah?"

One glimpse of him and Lebreau was already moving.

"Of course, sir," the bartender amiably, smoothly responded, winsome smile already in place. "What'll it be?"

"Surprise me," the young man chuckled, flashing a smile of his own.

As Lebreau laughed gamely and began to prepare a drink, Serah continued to stare at the young man. He was dressed similarly to everyone else - a pair of jeans, an open jacket with a shirt underneath, and sunglasses - but there was something familiar about him, something that gave her the feeling that she had seen him somewhere before. She noted the clean, handsome face, the short, messy dark hair, and then the smile, the smile, she soon realized, that was now directed at her.

"Sorry for stealing your friend," he said, again with that drawl that was vague but distinctly foreign.

Pulsian, Serah wondered, but it couldn't have been. There peace between Cocoon and Pulse was strained at best, and Pulsians rarely turned up in Cocoon, even during the holidays.

"That's perfectly fine," Lebreau answered for her, sliding over a colorful drink with a wink. "It's not every day Kain Highwind walks into my bar and asks for a surprise."

The mere mention of his name sent a flash of images in Serah's mind, from pictures in magazines to appearances in television. Kain Highwind, a renowned professional wyvern rider, widely considered one of the best to ever play the sport, whose skill with flying was often compared to the Yun hunters of Pulse. Adding to his decorated reputation was the only woman to ever be seen on his arm, Lightning, the famous violinist with only one name.

Serah stared at him, trying to match his face to those pictures she had seen, but the sheepish chuckle proved Lebreau right.

"Here I thought I was going to go a full day without anyone recognizing me," he said good-naturedly, briefly sliding his sunglasses lower to reveal his green eyes. "What gave me away?" he asked Lebreau as he pushed the sunglasses back.

"Your voice," Lebreau purred, playfully making eyes at him, "and that gorgeous tan. Is that a full body tan, by any chance?"

"It's natural," Kain purred right back, once again sliding his sunglasses down to wink at Lebreau. "Every inch."

"Now that," Lebreau giggled, "I would like to see."

He took a sip of his drink, smirking wickedly.

"Give me a few more drinks like that and you just might."

Lebreau smirked back.

"I can make it happen with just one more drink if you let me give you another surprise."

Serah could only shake her head at her friend's boldness, while a part of her wondered how Lightning would react to finding Kain openly flirting with another woman. Little did she know that she was about to see for herself.

"I asked you to get a drink, not a woman," was the icy statement that came from a young woman who seemed to have appeared at Kain's side in the blink of an eye.

Unfazed, Kain faced the young woman with a grin, whose looks alone proved that she was Lightning. She seemed to have just come out of the water, her blood red hair wet and her clothes damp, hinting at her swimsuit underneath. Her green eyes, darker than his, regarded him with nonchalance, as she was clearly unimpressed with him.

"She's a woman who makes drinks," Kain drawled, cocking his head at Lebreau.

"I can see that," Lightning remarked, perfectly calm, completely unaffected. "If you're done, I would like to go back to the hotel."

Laughing, Kain slipped an arm around Lightning's waist and drew her close, not at all minding her damp clothes.

"Stay for a little while, yeah? I'm meeting new people."

"Are you?" Lightning asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, let me introduce you," Kain cheerfully said, turning to Lebreau and Serah. "This is, uh..." he trailed off, as if finally realizing he had yet to ask for their names.

"Lebreau," the bartender didn't hesitate to say, "and Serah."

Kain smiled pleasantly and stood so he could nudge Lightning to Serah.

"Lebreau, Serah," he repeated in acknowledgment. "Good to meet you both. Happy to meet you both," he said, once nudging Lightning to Serah.

Serah, encouraged by the gesture, smiled at the couple.

"The feeling is very mutual," she blurted, her voice squeaking in excitement. "Wow, I can't believe I'm actually meeting you two. I never thought I'd ever get the chance to-" she paused in her stammering, thanks to Lebreau reaching over and giving her shoulder a calming squeeze. "Is it true you're going to be performing on the night of the fireworks, Lightning?" she asked, eager but not desperate. "I know we're not supposed to know, but we promise to keep it to ourselves."

Somewhere along the line, Serah figured she must have said something rude or wrong, because Lightning had looked at her with such coldness that she regretted ever opening her mouth.

"Yes," Lightning almost snapped, glaring at Kain. "I'm going back on my own if you're not coming with me."

Kain frowned, but relented with a sigh.

"Yeah, let's go," he mumbled, then looked at Lebreau and Serah. "Sorry about this. She's not feeling well."

"It's..." Serah started to say, but the couple was already leaving, "all right," she finished softly, staring at Lightning's retreating back as the couple disappeared in the crowd.

* * *

Inside a hotel suite, Lightning stood by the window that overlooked the beach. From so high up, she could vaguely make out the scene below, dots of people on the shore and in the water, stores and food stands lined along the beach. She brought her hand to the towel that was draped on her shoulder and wiped the trail of water that had dripped her hair. It did little to distract her, did even less to stop her gaze from being drawn to the precise location of Lebreau's cafe.

She twirled a strand of blood red hair around her fingers. How long will be, she wondered, before she had to color it again, to hide the shade of pink that matched Serah Farron's. Briefly, she glanced at her reflection on the glass window. Blue eyes, not green, stared back at her, the blue eyes of Claire Farron.

"Oh. Hey. Didn't think you'd be out of the shower so soon."

Lightning looked over her shoulder to see her companion coming up behind her.

"It's all the same," she murmured, her eyes drawn back to the window. "I remember being on patrol this day. I saw Hope with his mother. I saw you. Serah must have already been to the ruins, must have already been branded. I was going to take her away after the festival, just the two of us, away from Bodhum, away from Snow."

There was no verbal answer, only quiet footsteps headed her way.

"I'm still mad at you," she growled, putting a swift halt to the intended advance.

Green eyes narrowed at her.

"You wanted to see Serah. Don't even try to lie about it."

"That isn't the point," Lightning snapped, tearing herself from the window and whipping around. "What I want doesn't matter," she said with finality, an end to argument they had far too many times.

She brought her hand to her chest, pressing her palm over her heart, where there was an active Pulse l'Cie brand on its eleventh stage. Her time was running out. Their time was running out.

"We need to figure this out," she whispered, more a reminder to herself than an unnecessary plea to an already invested party. "This world, it's a mesh of the five hundred years between us. The fal'Cie have a presence in Cocoon and Gran Pulse, but not a single l'Cie has been created. In your time, this year would have marked the end of the war. In mine, the festival preceded the Purge. Primarch Dysley is here in Bodhum. It has to mean something."

Claire Farron was born with a white l'Cie brand no one else could see. No one but her sister Serah, who had a brand of her own. It was years later, just before her fourteenth birthday, when she saw her focus and splices of a different life she had lived. It was a life where their parents died, Serah had been branded and turned crystal, and she and five other l'Cie with the Ragnarok focus brought the fight to Eden, to the fal'Cie Barthandelus and Orphan.

How the fight ended, how that life ended, she didn't know. She only knew that she had to stop Orphan and the fal'Cie, and she had to do it without Ragnarok. She had to find another way. There had to be another way.

"Might get a chance later tonight," her companion said, in a nonchalant tone that still set her on edge. "Sounds like the primarch's going to show up at the party. For sure, Nabaat's going to be there. We'll be coming away with something tonight."

Lightning nodded, watching as a jacket fell to the ground, then a shirt. Her eyes trailed up the long legs to the noticeable curve of the hips to the slim waist and the flat, toned stomach. Slowly, she closed the distance between them, her hand lifting from where her heart was and seeking out another, this one hidden beneath layers of binds.

It was never Kain Highwind who shared this room and this burden with her. Kain Highwind didn't exist. He was a farce, like her hair, her eyes and her name. There was only Fang, the young heir of the Yun clan who had supposedly gone missing four years ago.

Lightning's fingers searched and found all the clasps, and soon, the binds came undone, joining the jacket and the shirt on the floor. For her eyes only stood Yun Fang, tall, proud, and every bit a woman like her. Lightning placed her hand over Fang's chest, acknowledging the unmistakable swell of a woman's breast, and looked up to meet the curious green eyes that had been watching her the whole time.

"Claire?" Fang whispered, the only person to have called her by her real name in seven years.

Lightning smiled, the kind of smile she could only seem to do for Fang.

"Your hair is getting long," she murmured, reaching up with her other hand and combing her fingers through Fang's wild, dark hair.

She remembered when it was much longer in another life, remembered the red tips and the small braid. She remembered the way it would get caught in the wind as they flew through the skies on Bahamut.

"Guess we have to fix that before the party," Fang said with a crooked grin that made Lightning think of the innocent, confused teenager she met four years ago.

Fang caught her hand and reverently kissed her palm, then turned to leave, heading towards the bathroom. Lightning didn't allow it, catching Fang by the shoulder, where there was a l'Cie brand just like hers.

"It can wait," she said, leading Fang to the bedroom instead.

**.**

**Note:**

Gave Fang the alias Kain Highwind because her ultimate weapon is the Kain's Lance and her full ATB skill is Highwind. It doubles as a bizarre shout out to the Final Fantasy character with the same name.

The premise was inspired by Michiru and Haruka's story in the anime Sailor Moon S. This is why Lightning plays the violin. This is also why Fang is cross-dressing.


End file.
